


Thick as Thieves

by carpfish



Series: Fantasy AU [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Kirisaki Daiichi - Freeform, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpfish/pseuds/carpfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A den of thieves" is what they call his guild, but Hanamiya finds it to be a rather generous title, considering the broad range of jobs that Kirisaki Daiichi is willing to accept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dirty Work

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Violence, blood, gore, shit (meaning feces, actual poop), procrastination writing

It isn't as if Hanamiya particularly enjoys handling the dirty work, but he cannot deny that there's a grim satisfaction in a job well done when he sees the target gasp as the knife twists in deeper, and then go lax. He releases his grip over the victim's mouth and takes a step back to watch the body collapse to the ground in a limp bundle. With its wide eyes, dilated pupils, and slack-jawed expression, it looks like a puppet with its strings cut. He kneels down to flip the victim onto its back, and checks the neck for a pulse, and finding none, tugs his knife out of the man's kidney in a rough motion. Corpses don't bleed much once their hearts have stopped, but Hanamiya doesn't have the time to wait for that to happen. In any case, if the blood loss and injury doesn't finish the man off, the toxin laced on his blade most certainly will. Hanamiya almost pities the poor soul who's going to have to clean the blood off these pristine marble floors later on. 

Hanamiya wipes his blade off with a rag, which he makes note to burn later in order to destroy all evidence. He's careful not to cut himself as he slides the knife back into its satchel. The sound of footsteps herald his comrades' arrival, and Hanamiya is irked by their lack of stealth.

"That was quick, cap'n," Hara comments unnecessarily, fanning himself with his hand and carelessly flicking blood all over his cheek and the long blond fringe that obscures his eyes. The claw-like points of his gauntlet are crimson, no doubt from crushing the windpipe of some poor guardsman. Furuhashi, who accompanies Hara, generally prefers to slit throats instead of crushing them, but even he looks covered in a bit more gore than usual. Perhaps those bodyguards were slightly more formidable than Hanamiya had surmised, but generally, that just meant that their deaths would be slightly messier.

"Or rather, you were just slow," Hanamiya quips back, before signaling his teammates to follow him with a flick of his hand. The duo fall into line behind their guild master with practiced ease, like trained hunting dogs, and allow Hanamiya to lead them to the exit. A stench fills the air, and Hanamiya notices Hara wrinkle his nose before grinning cheekily. Despite it being the natural progression of things, the release of feces is still highly unpleasant. However, Hanamiya thinks that Hara might find it darkly humorous to see their victims shit their pants after they die.

Most of the estate guardsmen are still asleep as the small procession makes its way down the halls. Hanamiya can't help but commend the steadily increasing potentness of Seto's sleeping drugs. To think that a small vial's worth of liquid poured into the communal drinking trough was enough to knock dozens of full grown men into stupor for hours, it's one of the times that Hanamiya truly does appreciate their guild apothecary's latent genius, despite how lazy he may be.

It takes a while before they reach the forest clearing where they'd left their horses, and several times on the way, they had been forced to hide in shadows or take detours in order to avoid detection. Their lowtown garments offer too distinct of a contrast against the embellished robes typical of the capital city's aristocratic sector. While it would be an easy matter to disguise himself as a nobleman and his two accomplices as bodyguards, lavish clothes would be far too noticeable and restrictive for the task at hand. In their line of work, it's probably best not to show your face, in any case.

As he mounts his horse, Hara makes a short comment about how he'll be able to show off his success to Yamazaki when they return to base. Hanamiya doesn't quite pay attention to Furuhashi's reply because he's busy checking that they have all the resources needed to set up camp that night. It's nearly a two day journey between the guild cities and the walled capital, so he and his guild rarely take up jobs so far from home. However, this particularly influential customer was highly effective in his use of material persuasion, and Hanamiya would not be a guildsman if he turned down such lucrative work. "A den of thieves" is what they call his guild, but Hanamiya finds it to be a rather generous title, considering the broad range of jobs that Kirisaki Daiichi is willing to accept. Of course their skills do endear them to a particular niche of work, and thus Hanamiya has found himself killing more often than stealing as of late. Not that he isn't capable of doing both at the same time. Hanamiya is sometimes lucky enough to make off with a piece of jewelry or pocketful of coin, but this time's target is too well known to go pick-pocketing off, much to his disappointment.

Hanamiya knows of every crooked knight and warden from the capital to the rural mountain monasteries of the Seihou Temple, so he and his men have no trouble passing through the eastern gate, save for the small traffic toll that a guardsman collects with a twisted grin. Hanamiya doesn't deny that a deep breath leaves his lungs once he's out of the capital. He doesn't enjoy having to enter that place, and is even more reluctant to admit that it's his hometown. The oppressive atmosphere that most large cities possess is only augmented by the stink of pollution, and Hanamiya always feels on edge when trapped in by those skyscraping walls. He really hates it.

Camp that night is in a small dip of land hidden from view by surrounding hills, and Hara complains about the cold despite knowing that a fire would be far too conspicuous. In spite of his grumbling, the blond is the first to fall asleep, and Furuhashi follows him into slumber soon after. Hanamiya stays up to keep watch, reading medical documents by the light of a lantern. The rumble of hoof beats alert him to the approach of a troupe of knights on the sloping path above his hiding spot, and he moves quickly to blow out the light and dive beneath his covers in order to hide himself in the darkness. He prays that their horses don't make a sound, and waits with a hand on his knife for the knights to pass.

The thundering of hooves fades into the distance, and Hanamiya thinks that he's safe again for a moment, before he hears the crisp trot of a single horse. "Kiyoshi, what are you doing? You're going to get left behind," a female voice reprimands.

There's a moment of silence before Hanamiya hears a deep chuckle. "Maa, it's nothing. I was just thinking about how exciting it is to finally go out like this. I haven't been outside of the capital in a long time," a man replies. The woman scolds him mildly again, and the both of them gallop off to join the rest of their unit.

Hanamiya crawls out from beneath his covers, takes a moment to think, before deciding that re-lighting the lantern may be too risky. Instead, he opts for resting his back against a saddle bag, letting the chill of the nighttime wind keep him awake. He plays with his knife, stroking his finger over the edges and pressing his thumb against the flat of the blade. His mind buzzes too relentlessly for sleep to overtake him, so he waits like this until morning arrives.


	2. Fairy Sugar and Flowerseed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the apothecary.
> 
> Warning(s): Mentions of drug use and dealing.
> 
> You can tell I got lazy towards the end.

When Hanamiya enters Seto's workroom, the apothecary is asleep, body slumped forward onto the table and mouth trailing a puddle of saliva onto the wooden workbench. Hanamiya questions the common sense in a wanted criminal sleeping so soundly in an unguarded location where anyone could easily slit his throat, but Seto has hardly ever been the most cautious of individuals. Hanamiya decides to demonstrate his point by stabbing a dagger roughly into the surface of the table, only a few hairs away from the side of Seto's head. "Wake up," Hanamiya orders, his tone leaving no room for questions of "five more minutes". Seto gives a low whining sound, before turning his head to look at Hanamiya's knife.

"Already got enough dents on this thing," Seto complains, jerking the dagger out of the wood before handing it back to its owner, and he fumbles around the surface of his workbench for a few moments before finding a small, round container of gel. Deftly turning the cap open with one hand, he scoops a generous amount with his thumb, before rubbing his hands together and slicking back his messy bangs. Only now can he look Hanamiya in the eye, and Seto does so with an eyebrow raised in question. "How'd the job go?" 

Hanamiya also questions the safety of blindly reaching for containers when in a room filled with potentially lethal substances, but refrains from commenting because he figures that Seto knows his own workshop well enough. However, he can't help but wonder how problematic it would be if Seto one day grabbed the paralysing or tranquilizing agent instead of hair gel. It's already difficult enough to wake Seto from a natural sleep; Hanamiya hates to think how difficult it would be to wake him from paralysis.

"Relatively smoothly," Hanamiya replies, twirling the knife once in his hand before stowing it. "Your sleep drug worked very well. They're getting better." Seto's eyebrow arches even more at this rare word of praise, and a small smile twists his thin lips. 

Seto's eyes are sharp as he grins at Hanamiya. "You must be in a good mood. But of course it works well. Target was a corrupt noble or something this time, right?" He asks, adjusting his cuffs with a small hint of pride. Considering how long Seto's worked with the creation and dealing of illicit chemicals and substances even before joining Kirisaki Daiichi, it's only natural that his concoctions would be of a high standard. Hanamiya surmises that had Seto continued as an independent trader on the black market, he may be earning a much higher salary than he does now, which is impressive, since Kirisaki's income is nothing to sneeze at. But Hanamiya thinks that the apothecary finds life as a guildsman more beneficial in the long run, due to the steady demand, and protection from knight raids. Supplying a thieves guild with serums and poisons is likely to be much more exciting than selling Fairy Sugar and Flowerseed to addicted nobles, although Seto might still be running a small business of the latter option on the side. Hanamiya doesn't complain of course, because Seto's drugs are as good a leash on addicted clients as they are a muzzle on lips that would flap otherwise. Taking note of the dazed look that the apothecary sometimes wears, however, Hanamiya sometimes can't help but wonder if Seto may imbibe on his own wares on occasion.

"A knight actually, lieutenant general in fact. An aristocrat as well, count of something or another. Pretty high profile," Hanamiya answers happily, thinking of the price offered by the client who'd hired them. Someone had apparently gotten tired of the lieutenant general's embezzling habits, and as defenders of justice, how could Kirisaki Daiichi turn down the chance to bring down such an awful tyrant? "This payday's going to fill our pockets for months." Seto's eyes gleam at this, proving that he's just as pleased as the rest of them.

Seto's low chuckle sounds throughout the room, and he runs a sticky hand through his hair once again. "The knights are going to investigate this, you know. They won't take this sitting down," He warns, although he's clearly just repeating what Hanamiya has already accounted for. 

Hanamiya shrugs with the flippancy of an aristocratic lady, and sticks his tongue out in mockery. "We'll see if they find us first."


	3. skin as cold as ice; eyes as bright as demons'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furuhashi and Hara backstory.

Koujirou has only ever known his father through his mother's stories. 

His father had been a battle monk of the Seihou temples , living high on the peaks of the snow-crusted mountains to the north. He had been a man of good standing within the order, blessed with patience and wisdom. Unfortunately, his lack of self-restraint and divorcement from earthly pleasures resulted in his untimely liaison with one of the temple maids. When she was discovered to be with child, the monks stripped his father of his rank, and cast Koujirou's mother out of the order. Koujirou was a child of natural birth, delivered unto the world upon a cradle of bloodied snow. He had felt as cold as a block of ice when she had held her newborn babe, Koujirou's mother recounts, and she had thought him dead until his eyes opened and fixed upon her, eyes that were black and glazed over like the surface of a frozen lake. That is why even in the most stifling of summers, when the sun beats down on the barren earth of the east and the wind is thick with dust, his skin is as cool to the touch as it was the day he was born.

Koujirou's skin remains pale and pasty no matter how long he spends outdoors, and not a drop of sweat has ever touched his back. Kazuya thinks this to be strange, and sometimes calls Koujirou "abnormal", "a freak", or "you icy bastard". Koujirou can only count himself fortunate that Kazuya's slurs, when directed towards him, lack the barbs that his words often hold. Koujirou has seen Kazuya start enough fights, and participated in enough of them, to know how easily his friend enjoys setting off tensions with a single word. Often, he thinks that Kazuya will one day get himself killed through such brawl rousing, and it's a miracle that neither of them have ended up stuck on the wrong end of a knife yet. Worse things have happened for lesser crimes in the slums of Kozen City. 

Kazuya likes to boast that the gash on his left eye is a product of one of these fights, that he was caught unawares by a triad member, but paid him back for the wound with interest. It's not an impossible story- as fearsome as the triads are, Kazuya has exchanged a share of blows with some of their lower ranked lackeys in the past. But Kazuya, aside from being a fight monger and word mangler, is also a near-chronic liar. Perhaps it's because Kazuya was born in the southern reaches of the empire, but Koujirou has never seen any other eyes the same shade as Kazuya's. "Eyes like a demon", Kazuya says his father had called them, in a fit of drugged delusion, before trying tried to gouge them out. Kazuya often says the only reason that he keeps Koujirou around is because he needs him to cover his blind spot. 

It's been many years since they were breadthieves in the alleys of Kozen, but not much has really changed. They still rob, steal, and if they have to, kill, but keeping the skin on their backs isn't the only reward in itself anymore, they also land a heavy paycheck for every job. Kazuya's still got shitty vision on the left side of him, Koujirou still has eyes of ice, and they still work together to watch out for each other. The only difference now is that instead of for themselves, they do it for Hanamiya as well.


End file.
